


Everyday Words

by Truetomorrow



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Do i even need to say it?, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I just really like these two together, Mentions of Modesty - Freeform, Moment in time, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-29 23:43:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17817773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Truetomorrow/pseuds/Truetomorrow
Summary: Seraphina Picquery can take care of herself, can stand alone against the crowd. Queenie shows her that there is more out there than fighting, and reminds her not everything needs to be faced alone.





	Everyday Words

**Author's Note:**

> Title from _La Vie En Rose_ "Everyday words seem to turn into love songs."
> 
> I hope you enjoy - this was going to be part of a longer fic, but became a bit more of a moment in time piece... and I kind of liked it. In the same world as my [_Five Times Seraphina Incorrectly Guessed Percival's Middle Name, and the One Time He Told Her_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10116890/chapters/22515239) (lolol when ur titles are longer than the fics themselves yeesh), but not necessary to read that one.

No one knows MACUSA quite like the President; so when the hearings, meetings, paperwork, and hospital visits get to be too much, Sera knows the best places to hide. Just for a moment. Just to center herself again. To _breathe_ before she is thrust back into the middle of it all, alone against the storm once again.

Today has been particularly filled with unnecessary drama and raised tempers, so as soon as she is able, Sera secrets herself away in one of the many hallways no one ever uses. As she sits stewing, soft clicks echo down the hallway and alert Sera that she’s about to have company. Glancing up, she relaxes a touch, seeing blond curls and recognizing the other woman. It’s only Queenie. Someone safe.

She frowns slightly as Queenie gets closer, not sure when her brain began to recognize the younger woman as “safe,” but knows that it is a fact if the building let her find Sera when she is in this state.

She will be safe with this person.

Still, she does not relax her posture as Queenie approaches, steps slowing until they halt in front of her.

“Madam President—“ It’s almost a greeting on its own, but she hesitates, seemingly uncertain of how to continue.

“Miss Goldstein. I trust you and your sister are well?” Queenie beams, dimples appearing that distract Sera’s attention for a moment.

“Yes, Ma’am, thank you.” She studies Sera’s face, but doesn’t ask how she’s holding up. It’s intentional, kind, and Sera smiles. She knows what she must look like, on the verge of tears after what has been a long day in a long week of even longer days. “I was hoping to run into you, actually. I wanted to talk to you about Modesty.” Sera glances up in surprise. She hadn’t said anything about the child they are claiming as the "Obscurus," out loud—but Queenie continues without pausing. “She’s doing just swell with us, in a magical household, that is, and, well.” She raises her chin ever so slightly, and Sera feels her eyes prickle at the maternal, protective glint in her eyes as she watches for Sera’s reaction, “I just know she would love to meet you.”

Sera hesitates. She had _thought_ about taking in the girl, yes, but that was a far cry from the realities involved. She looks up at Queenie, standing patiently to give Sera the time to process her thoughts. She looks so earnest, so _bright_ that Sera is again distracted. The sudden realization comes that it’s not just Modesty she would like to meet. To get to know. Thoughtfully, Sera pushes that thought to the back of her mind. For now.

She nods. “Yes, I would like that as well. After… Well. After.”

Queenie grins, but her eyes have gone shuttered, and Sera can’t read her expression. She must have heard about the trials from her sister. How they are not going the way Sera and the rest of MACUSA could have hoped. Though far from over, Sera is already exhausted by the hoops justice is being forced to jump through.

Her personal thoughts and feelings are not allowed to sway her as President. The process, though grueling, will be fair. It will leave no room for dissent. It is the least she can do for Percival.

Here in this hallway, however, tucked away in the depths of MACUSA with someone who asks nothing of her… Sera feels the anger roiling just below the surface of her emotions. She knows it has been simmering since they recovered Percival. The small satisfaction of being there when he woke, the brief outlet she was provided to rant at him, is not enough. She is so _angry_ at the proceedings; furious at the lawyers and journalists attempting to turn this into the trial of the century. Everyone who is out for blood _against the wrong person._

The trial the Magical community should be focused on is the one against Grindelwald — instead, they have grabbed onto the sensationalism of what was supposed to have been a hearing discussing Percival Graves. Instead of the testimony of the facts, and discussion about his health and a decision on when he could return to his role — should he choose to return —Seraphina had been stuck in proceedings questioning his allegiance. Questioning his every action since Ilvermorny.

By default, as his oldest friend as well as the leader of the American magical community which he was charged to protect, Seraphina had borne the brunt of the accusations while Percival recovers. Never has she been so relieved this will be her last term. So devastated this will mark the end.

"It wasn't supposed to be me, alone." Queenie can't have any idea what Sera means, but she hums in response, and Sera continues. "This should never have happened, of course. But since it did... we had no idea. I had no idea. My best friend, and..." she trails off again, not sure where she had even been headed.

Queenie is standing a respectful distance away, gaze focused on the floor. She is giving Sera space, while offering her the option of a listening ear. It's more than anyone has offered her in far too long, and suddenly it becomes too much.

Raising a hand to her eyes, Sera starts to cry.

Whether the tears are from anger, exhaustion, or some mix of emotions, Sera doesn't have the strength to pinpoint right now, but this is the last straw. Queenie's silent kindness the final stone that breaks the dam.

Through the tears, Sera tries to smile. It doesn't matter what she says, she knows, not really. But right now, there is no one else to listen without comment, without judging. No one else so safe. “That’s what I'm supposed to have Percy for. To fight for me when I’m too tired. Just like I fight for him.” She falters, “but sometimes you need someone just to be there and hold you.”

Queenie nods thoughtfully, and through her fingers, she can see the younger woman watching Sera’s face before she speaks, her voice matter-of-fact. “And now Director Graves has Credence.”

Sera nods once, then there is movement beside her. Queenie, sitting on the bench so her knee presses against Sera's thigh. Sera’s breath catches at the warmth, the solidity from that single point of contact.

Sera’s shoulders slump, but Queenie is there to catch her. She is _there_.

Tears trickle aimlessly from her eyes, but Queenie’s fingers are stroking through the hair that has come loose, scratching gently at the back of her neck, and Sera makes no attempt to wipe the tears away. Queenie hums softly as her fingers move, and slowly the tears dry up on their own.

Sera raises her head enough for their eyes to meet as Queenie hands her a clean handkerchief. Queenie smiles and Sera finds she can breathe.

Yes, Sera thinks, Percival has Credence now. But she is not alone. She doesn't have to do this alone.

“Miss Goldstein, I would like to meet Modesty.” She can feel Queenie’s laugh where she is again pressed against the other woman’s collar.

“It’s Queenie, please.” She holds Sera securely in her arms, a steady pressure and heat. “Come for dinner.”

Slowly, Sera twines her own arms around Queenie’s waist. “Dinner sounds wonderful. Queenie.”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's all she wrote. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read this, and/or any of my other fics. Your comments meant more than I could ever say, and everyone who found me on tumblr you were all delights. The kudos don't mean much Leave A Comment, Peeps. but I know a lot of authors like those, so thank you for those as well. 
> 
> Hopefully some day I'll have something to write again.


End file.
